On How My Physical Experience Affects Spiritual Discipline

Attending to my physical body is a significant exercise in spiritual discipline for me. Finding the balance in consistent work and recovery, through various life seasons, uncovers my stubborn motivations as I earnestly strive to submit to God’s pace.

My illustration here is a physical one, but I see manifestations of it in other dear hearts:

Single seeking relationship. 
Diseased seeking a cure. 
Unemployed seeking an answer. 
Ignorant seeking awakening. 
Dreaming seeking practicality.
Grief seeking comfort.
Foolish seeking wisdom. 
Sedentary seeking action. 
Bitter seeking peace.

A common condition known as diastasis recti is gaining recognition. Most women who’ve ever been pregnant (as well as men and women who have been overweight) have the split between their abdominal muscles that can affect bladder control, back discomfort, posture, strength, and even lead to dangerous hernias or other issues. The core support God gave us with so many beautifully working muscles has a weak spot in our very-significant-to-all-our-activities trunk. I didn’t even know about it until our second of three sons was almost 2, and I was running intensely on a daily basis, not realizing how my body was damaged. Or, more importantly, how I could help it.

Here’s a pic I took last week of my current belly, after three big boys and lots of intense exercise have affected the surface and the depth of my body. Bellies have all sorts of seasons, huh? I didn’t realize my belly-button could disappear in all the extra scarred skin and the diastasis canyon. Haha:

32-year-old me likes this belly with stories of love, sacrifice, and depth pulled through every mark left by my three boys. Diastasis recti and extra, stretched skin are reminders of glory.

I wear a girdle when I run to support my organs. Lol! About six months ago I consulted a surgeon about repairing the gap because my organs were pushing through during certain exercises, but that kind of surgery is tremendous, so I decided to work on strength first to see if it will restore its function without surgical intervention. All this time later, after multiple attempts to work on the strength, my gap is not any smaller, but the organs are staying inside. Progress! I worked with a physical therapist for a few weeks in October to learn recommended core exercises that will possibly help the muscles come back together. They have sustained a lot of damage, but I am working hard and vigilantly to run nonetheless. 

Multiple setbacks with my tendons have occurred. I am learning how rest is as important to fruitfulness as work. Sigh. If I could take it as slow as I should, instead of trying to be as fast as I was, then I would probably be a lot farther ahead of where I am now, after having to nurse injuries. It’s all an adventurous journey, though, right? Not an endless arrival at success.

The Bible’s words about our inferior plans in the shadow of God’s supreme ones could have helped me handle this hiccup in my plans better than I have (Proverbs 16:9, 19:21...). Our third baby is nine months old. My pregnancy with him came at the rear of an IT band injury that postponed some long-distance running goals of mine. Telling y’all I have handled the interruption with grace would be untrue. Well, I guess GOD’s grace is all over it because of all the exhaustingly tangible transformation taking place inside me as I learn what matters best. But I have not not handled it gracefully. It has taken a lot of humbling (more like "grumbling") denials of my plans to calm my over-ambitious spirit to redirection. And I still fight every second of every day with obsessive worries and trying to do more than I can. This is not just with running, but with a lot of the expectations I desire, as well as the obligations I hate to feel; but running is more socially acceptable (and safer) to share in this way. 

The trust I know I can have in how blessed life will be by the sovereignty I beg God to enact in our details, by the rich blessings He gives that I could never imagine to ask for, are met with a ridiculous amount of resistance from what I think I want or what I think people expect of me.
As long as I am alive, I feel like I’ll be living between my attempted control AND the true freedom God is trying to give me. That’s where my life is happening, where my heart is softening and strengthening, in between the tension of me versus Him. The tension is uncomfortable, but it proves connection and progression, sometimes regression and having to regain balance, but always being aware of where to find traction, constantly learning how to get back up again.

Here’s a poem (shaped like my diastasis recti) to address this spiritual discipline of finding balance in the tension of life’s uncontrollable reality *with* my ability to influence it.

A smooth path, pitless     An impassable abyss, edged

Heeded goals        Ignored requests

Instant pleasure            Ever deprivation

My way                His way

Certain action                    Confused will

Strength                     Weakness

 

Strife, falsely redemptive & mine                    Rest, humbling power from Him

Unintended birthright                      Dislocated joint

A name for myself        All for His Name

A (Literal) Formula for Making Joy Out of Pain

I started this weekly-post-for-three-months-business at the end of October as a way to keep myself writing regularly, with the only rule being to post by no later than Friday. So far, I’ve been ahead of the game. I have been working on a different post over the past few days, but this week exploded in unexpected ways. Instead of pushing the other one where I just can’t get it to go, I’ll accept the circumstances for this time and go with a shorter one that appropriately addresses that very real and usual struggle.

I am a fighter. I strive to make myself and everything around me the way I believe they “should be.” Never content, always seeking improvement, drawn toward this perfect and illusive form I constructed with childhood perceptions and expectations.

Well.

Sometimes that makes for useful motivation toward healthy transformation. 

But.

Other times it results in burning more (useless) effort than I possess. And that takes a toll.

What is the healthy balance between gratitude/presence AND more/growth?

I don’t know. That’s why this is about “the art of my heart,” as I learn through progress rather than insist on nonexistent perfection.

A friend with a psychology background shared a formula with me years ago that I never think to apply until life forces me to surrender. And then I have an “Aha!” moment when striving obviously has negative results, instead of affecting progress.

Pain x Resistance = Suffering

Let’s start with something trivial to illustrate: 

Getting stuck in traffic while running late is the pain (4). Yelling/honking your horn/cussing/complaining, even though those don’t change your status in the traffic, are the resistance (0-10). 

4 x 0 = 0  OR  4 x 2= 8  OR  4 x 4 = 16

The pain will happen. Bad traffic, illnesses, inconvenient timing, other people’s choices. How we react to those can change the amount of needless suffering we experience, which affects the shape of our hearts.

This amounts to accepting where I am, even if i dislike myself or my circumstances. I can’t magically become the wise 70-year-old with myriad wisdom of decades of experiences just because I want to be that woman. I can’t simply escape some of the events that happen in my life and still be part of my life. Work and striving are part of the process in transforming as we suffer, no doubt. But the process cannot be rushed. And forcing growth when we cannot control it stunts it at best and stops it at worst.

We also don’t have to simply disengage in this surrender to presence. The opposite of resistance is support.

So instead of pitching an adult fit in the traffic jam, I can turn on my favorite music and sing along or call an old friend to pass the time. To divert that useless frustration into something more enjoyable will even make me more useful when I finally get to where I need to be.

When all the Christmas plans rearrange my typical routine, I can have fun at the parties and forgo one of my workouts. And I can do it by engaging with loved ones and detaching from worries.

When difficult relationships are part of the holiday plans, I can think of creative ways to interact (board games, shopping, baking cookies), instead of making the gathering an isolating or dreadful experience because of focusing on problems.

When the baby won’t come on his due date, my sister can plan a date with her husband or go to lunch with her friends, instead of sulking at home in an uncomfortable gigantic body.

When my baby gets sick on my newest nephew’s arrival into the world, I can FaceTime my sister and her newborn, engage with them in such a golden age of technological connection, instead of potentially getting precious people sick by going in person or isolating myself in narcissistic complaints. 

Recap: Pain x Resistance = Suffering

And I am even gonna be wild and make my own formula for what I just said about finding ways to support the people and circumstances.

Pain x Support = JOY

How can I not only accept undesirable circumstances but also find a way to invest creativity and bonding energy to make the best of any situation?

It’s 3 a.m. My 9-month-old has salmonella poisoning. [Despair emoji.] He woke more than an hour ago with a 103-degree fever and more bloody poop (which has come by the hour for the past two days—his poor body). I thought about going out to catch up on chores while he went back to sleep beside my husband. But, no! Not to mention how that would exhaust me for whatever tomorrow holds, but it also wouldn’t be as supportive to his recovery as holding my sweet baby while his fever-reducer takes effect and the breastfeeding hydrates his pitiful little system with nourishing nutrients. And I can even work toward my writing goal at the same time. However, when he starts fussing because of his discomfort, I put the writing down and rub his skin... not only does the lesser importance of concentration and hitting the correct keys become interrupted by flailing sweet arms when that happens, but he also needs the physically reassuring touches and phrases to calm him down. His pain (and mine) can become even more draining if I whine that we’re awake (more than usual), or we can have some pleasant bonding as we move through this circumstance at the pace dictated by the bacteria I cannot control (even though I am trying to figure out how to go back in time through worry and prevent the several theories I have for how he caught this bug. [Sad face.]) I am honored to care for him and try to ease his suffering. I am so much better at sleep deprivation than I was 7 years ago with my first son. (So don’t get down on yourself if you read that and hated me. It’s a daily (or nightly) process, not a snap of fingers.) Mutually supportive decisions can be determined in each moment for unique people and changing situations. 

Hopefully some of this makes sense from my wacky brain at this hour. Hahaha!

Make lemonade out of lemons.

Make a dance party out of traffic jams.

Make a FaceTime party out of not getting to visit with loved ones because of illness.

Make cuddles out of interrupted sleep and uncomfortable bodies.

Some of you are experiencing big pain. Maybe you need rest instead of the next step; prayer instead of answers; reaching out instead of decisions; saying no instead of another good deed.

Be blessed, dear ones.

On the Secret of Contentment with MY body

Before this post begins, take a deep breath. In through your nose, out of your mouth. Feel the rhythms that make up your engine — pumping blood, flowing breath, churning thoughts...

This isn’t at all about what you look like, what size or shape you are, what the scale will tell you. It’s not about getting a healthy report at your next checkup. Some of the things I share may affect those measurements. But what I share is not about those things. Because you are not about them. Those are equipment to aid your fullness and freedom as God’s children in this broken, limited, but-somehow-still-growing-world. Each person has different abilities, sensitivities, injuries... purposes. But we can all learn to value who we are and learn to wield our tools effectively by finding traction in our present situations.

It won’t be a quick fix or an immediate revelation. Learning to nurture goodness, and not only deflect lies but also powerfully speak against them, is an endless journey through progress, not an arrival at perfection, ease, or untouchable security.

Those who know me well are familiar with my eating/exercise struggles since I was a teenager. Hearing women consistently despise their figures, long for tasty-but-no-calorie-food, and feel inadequate to physical feats, has wreaked havoc in my neurotic mind for most of my life. The criticisms and cynicism are the very strong weakest links in my thoughts. The sensitivities to body image and unhealthy, untrue cognitive distortions about food and exercise have put me through a years-long intensive course on striving to feed and activate my body wholly, instead of erratically, to seek self-harmony, not self-hostility. I would never choose to go through it, but I thank God for the power He weaves into my weakness because He can empower myself and others from here. 

The physical harm and mental brutality have grown old. I won’t bow to the self-violence, image idolization or discontent anymore. I suppose that part of me will always be pushing against my boundaries as thorns in my flesh. Some days will be weaker than others. However, I am learning so much about treating myself kindly because of how many times I’ve had to recover after bullying myself to a pulp. I want to build up the beautiful women who also need to shut down that lying, distracting internal bully that feeds voraciously off our cultural tendencies. Those who don’t understand this struggle (praise the Lord) probably think this is trivial; but those of us who have been locked in our head with these burning shackles of shame know how foundational this freedom could be to all our days and relationships.

Learn to pinpoint lies in commercials, magazines, shows, in oblivious-to-the-problem-maybe-even-well-meaning-women sitting across from you at the restaurant or posting selfies on their social media accounts. The amount of lies coming at you will overwhelm you: “You’re not pretty enough, healthy enough, young enough. Only certain people get to look like THAT, and the rest of you are worthless and flawed imitations. Be corrupted by the shame of your hunger, of your needs, and your reality. Your experience doesn’t matter because no one wants to look at you or acclaim you. It doesn’t matter how hard you try, you’re useless.”

When you pinpoint the lies — anything that steals joy or bravery or tells you that there is only one correct body form — call them out and speak against them: “God not only knows how many hairs are on my head, but He picked their color, and He chose every cell in my body. I may look forward to my imperishable Heavenly body, but He knows , understands, and revives the spirit in this one daily. I am worthy of fueling my body, even of enjoying it, because God made me to receive and give love, which requires not only energy but nourishment. God made my taste buds, and my metabolism. I am a capable and responsible person, who can live a full life. I CAN break barriers. I am so much more than how I feel or look or what I do. I am so much more than what I assume people assume of me — because I have this one-on-one internal relationship with the Sovereign Creator and Sustainer of the Universe, Who knows me and understands me better than I can myself.”

Even as I write this, chains of guilt and shame are clanging on the door of my mind. We live in such an abundant culture. People indulge irresponsibly. People abuse their resources and their time. I do sometimes. Some people are broken beyond repair or ability. But instead of hiding from the opportunities or dwelling on the problems like a person who buries her one talent, I am learning to make the best of this golden age and the opportunities it affords to become the strongest, healthiest version of myself. The more whole I am, the more fruit for sharing in God’s work can grow. 

I’ve deprived myself. I’ve over-exercised my body to the point I lost my period. I’ve avoided exercise because I feared the time that I used it injuriously, and I ate food that made me feel slow and icky because it was “comfortable.” I’ve been all over the board, and in the past few years I’ve gained a healthier relationship with eating and exercise as tools for building my Jesus-serving wife-/mommy-/friend-/family-/neighbor-/church-vessel.

Instead of looking at food as a shameful reward or a satisfying punishment, I recognize it as pleasant medicine made by the Designer for my soul’s engine to run cleaner and stronger. I eat as many of His nutrient-purposeful foods on a daily basis as possible because they clear my mind, strengthen my body, and empower my self-management. I enjoy treats when the occasion calls for it. I see it as a lifestyle for my life’s strength, not a gimmicky diet fad for my body’s pants size.

Instead of seeing exercise as a regulator of my body’s image, a compulsive reaction to my eating habits, I enjoy it for testing my strength, enjoying recreation, and instilling health for future opportunities. Most importantly, the way my brain chemistry and other systems coordinate, it relieves anxiety. It helps me be ready for activities I enjoy personally or with my kids. I also get to connect with people who have the same interests. And connections are where Jesus works His power. Subconsciously, maybe we think anything “non-churchy” is useless. Uh, no. Our interests and hobbies, same as our duties, are where the Spirit fills our sails in relationships and opportunities for God’s glory. 

This morning I read Philippians 4:11-13 about contentment, and because of my all-or-nothing thoughts with food and exercise, I said it a little differently to myself for this post’s encouragement:

“Not that I speak of needing to attain a certain fitness, for I *am learning* that the secret to valuing my body as a vessel, no matter its abilities or appearance, is to meditate on and self-remind that God sees me as His beautiful daughter and gives me the tools I need for fullness of life in the particular season in which I am. For I know what it’s like to feel free and beautiful, and I know what it’s like to feel bound and disgusting. In any and every season, I am learning how to invest in the strength of my soul when I am fit, and I am learning how to trust in God’s love for me when I feel worthless. I can focus on Jesus’s supreme strength, whether I have my own or not.”

As you gear up for a celebratory season of treats, remember God made us to tend everyday responsibilities *and* enjoy special occasions. Be kind to yourself. Learn new ways through shifting perspectives. You can enjoy without over-indulging. You can indulge without abusing. And then when January comes around (or even better, as soon as you’re ready), and you have an outcome in your head of how you hope to look by summer, be reasonable and realistic with your expectations. Maybe don’t even have tangible visions, but simply heart goals — about feeding, working and resting your body in ways that feel clean, strong, and kind. Take steps to work with what you’ve got in sustainable, adjustable increments. Try new things you’ve been afraid of, like training for a race or planning a vacation full of hiking with your family or... vegetables.

Be kind to yourself along the journey of progress, and stop looking at “Arrival” — it’s not a real place in this world, just a photoshopped expectation.

Be blessed, dear ones.

On the Art of Letting Our Thanks Shape Our Hearts

This time of year I am thinking of all the consuming and giving to share with others. What will we eat? What can I bake? How can I help clean up messes and try not to leave any in our three-boys wake? Who might see the house I can’t keep clean? And what will I get our kids for Christmas to build them up and yet let them be kids? And what will I get the extended family I don’t really know? And how can we enjoy as many fun events as possible? And how can we help the sorrowful? How will I deal with the guilt of receiving more than I can give back, no matter how hard I try? Oh, and how will I be able to be a comforting, encouraging presence when I’m such a wreck about all this external stuff? And I huff, and I puff, and I fall down in exhaustion because most of those thoughts are motivated by people-pleasing more than gratitude, by pride more than love. (Most of) the thoughts in and of themselves aren’t wrong; but the motivation changes their essence and affects their effects on me.

Practicing healthy thoughts for fruitful behavior has become a necessary art process for me during every day... but especially holidays. My relational energy is a precious commodity in high demand this time of year, so I must learn how to make the best of it... not the •most• but the *BEST*. When it comes to receiving God’s gifts, or anyone’s, I have a prideful side that tries to compensate for shame by pretending to be humble and rejecting what He wants me to claim for multiplied blessings toward others; and then I have another indulgent side that only wants to take whatever I can get without any responsibility to make a return on it. Both of those things exhaust me and dry up what He meant for reaping a harvest. Finding a balance, of feeling beloved despite my undeserving status, and then being able to receive and then give and then continue the exchange in a whole, healthy, bold way is my goal. And it changes from each season and circumstance, so it’s usually a constant rhythmic transformation. I am more whole now than I was ten years ago. And in fifty years, I will be even more whole. And so on...

The holidays are expectant with the joy to saturate pleasant experiences. Many people look forward to the nostalgic sense of remembered childhood joys. But something has been lost between childhood and adulthood, and by the time the holidays come, some of us feel drained before it’s time to pour. I wonder if it is an adult’s compulsion to say thanks in a noticeable way, and then do the right things to be perceived as grateful — which comes more from a lust to be seen as righteous than to give a proper appreciation for what matters most. How many of us exhaust ourselves to display a false sense of humility to mask a real existence of pride?

Needed rest slips through our fingers to portray a perfect dining environment that will get us compliments but cost us energy for connecting with others.

Saying yes to too many responsibilities, instead of doing well with a reasonable amount, takes away a cheerful generosity and replaces it with resentment and exhaustion.

Not gently and kindly speaking up about a need or desire for something we want to give, organize, initiate, or remove from the packed schedule, etc. allows interactive confidence to atrophy and social anxiety to spread.

A pull to make the remainder of the holiday season excessively and unnecessarily magical, with perfectly detailed plans, can steal quiet moments of relational connection between us and our loved ones by snatching away precious time in an already too-limited window. And for what? Hmm? Some of those plans strengthen our bonds. Hold on to those. Find them. And then let go of the ones that fray the bonds with jagged stress.

Sometimes I compliment people, and I can tell it is hard for them to utter “Thank you” because they feel by acknowledging something good about themselves they are being egotistical or glory-hog-esque. Or am I just projecting my own feelings on that situation? (*winky face*) But I think we do the same thing with God. It’s a little different because He is inside our minds and hearts. How many of us don’t claim what He is handing to us because we’re so centered on how we’re lacking strength to boldly perform a task or too undeserving to accept something pleasant?

Instead of focusing on how limited or undeserving I am, when I focus on how beloved I am, God can place gifts in my hands that I will be empowered to accept and then multiply for others as a sincere thank offering to Him.

“If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” Luke 11:13

God is our Father, and He wants us to be filled with His gifts. Kids want gifts. Grandparents and parents enjoy giving children gifts in the holidays. What’s better? The kids aren’t all fussy about how they didn’t get us something to reciprocate or earn it… they just have fun! We as parents constantly sift which gifts are best, the intangible and material, for their joy and growth. God probably smiles when you lay down to nap after getting up at 5 a.m. to prepare a feast for your family; He understands if you don’t make the most of every coupon in your wallet and every sale on Black Friday because you were spending time with your loved ones over a conversation and a meal or a board game; He is okay if you only have time and money for one service project, instead of the five that will come to your attention over the next few weeks. And when you take time to do those things, then it’s easier to joyfully do someone’s dishes while they rest, or enjoy a conversation while doing dishes together. Taking time to play with your kids and discover the perfect gift for them by knowing them is an even better gift than what you’ll receive in the Amazon box soon.

We’re all still learning how to do life best. Communicate about what makes you a strong vessel. Let others communicate about what makes them strong vessels. Help each other do hard work and restful work. And then work together to whittle away the things that steal true joy and cultivate the things that help it blossom.

Are you feeding your soulful gratitude with your expressions this week, or are you feeding your bottomless pride about what you assume others expect of you? Give thanks, a real and pure and filling thanks that flows into all the other stuff naturally by really, truly, deeply, sincerely claiming what the people who love you want you to have, by accepting what the loving Father wants you to have as children in His house. We can never outgive Him, just like our kids can’t outgive us. So He isn’t expecting that. Stop expecting it of yourself, and just be free to feel joy. And then keep it up through the other seasons and next year’s holidays — because it isn’t an arrival at perfection, but it’s a journey through progress.

Happy Thanksgiving. Give thanks happily. Or joyfully. Give thanks joyfully. That’s better. Joy can have hope even when life has no happiness, as I sadly understand many lives experience at times. Let God love on you; that creates the kind of thanks He can work with.

On the Art of Nurturing Joy (Not Stress) During Holidays

"Glory to God in the highest, 

and on earth peace among those with whom his favor rests." 

Luke 2:14

The holiday craze has already begun, and all of my thoughts and preparations are moving faster than Santa's sleigh in a confounded mess of anxieties and inspirations that are tangled worse than last year’s Christmas lights. Am I supposed to break down the overwhelming tasks and emotions into doable increments, or is the assumption I should do that part of my problem? Money is tight. Time is tighter. Relational energy is tightest. But JOY can be abundant.

What a bitter-sweet time. 

So many joyful, wonderful events with loved ones happen during the holiday season at the end of every year. As a kid, these times were full of wonder and exciting play and goodies. A lot has changed since being a kid, though; some losses, some gains; and unexpected grief, but abundant joy too. 

This time of year is excessively busy for us. I want to enjoy every little festive event and aesthetic thrills of sight and taste. I think this will be the year I can pull off some kind of daily surprise for the boys once December 1st slides into play. Nope. This’ll be the year I don’t feel like a moron for making a pathetic Pinterest-esque attempt to express our love within our budget. But I like those. This--This will be the year I don’t have any panic attacks about relational emotions, packing, affording, or people-pleasing. But every year my expectations hit reality, two very different experiences. 

And yet every year, I am okay.

I release a little more of the superficial expectations and retain more inner energy for deeper peace about relationships and memories.

My husband and I will have been married ten years this December (Yes, we chose to add *another* big day to a season full of them. This is where I thank all our loved ones--again, but never enough--for not killing us that year when we chose that date. And not only did you not kill us, but you loved us so well. Thank you. It sincerely was the best time for what mattered most. I am glad it happened when it did. And all the decorations and pretty music everywhere are intended to celebrate our marriage, right? Haha.) Our first of three boys just turned 7 before Halloween. My husband’s birthday is around Thanksgiving, and our second son’s is in early December. So.many.activities — And all the traveling and planning and questions and messes of stuff in-between. 

We are finally learning to brace for the blizzard that brews in my exhausted, introverted head during this time full of people and plans and preparations and too.much.stuff. Learning how to soak up the priceless time with loved ones—who I truly desire to engage and enjoy—without drowning in the responsibilities is a significant goal for me. Years of practice will be required to make progress. I know what — who — matters most. I am loved well by those who know what matters. How will I overcome my assumed expectations that voraciously devour fruits of the Spirit inside of me?

The little stuff matters, like what to give our children under a sparkly tree trimmed with family-traditions-in-the-making, as well as how to keep our infant from toppling a tree or choking on Legos. And the big stuff haunts me, like how to teach them to appreciate the relationships with loved ones more than the wrapped toys — and to just be patient with them because they don’t have enough perspective for any of that to make sense yet. I mean, do we even have that perspective yet? Is that what this particular “On the Art...” is truly about?

It’s all progress, limitless improvements to make in tiny steps, and somehow finding peace about being who you are, where you are, with whom you fellowship right now.

• Kids like getting presents, and that’s okay. They’ll learn deeper appreciation as time turns.

• Messes will not be cleaned up when we’re spending many evenings a week with loved ones, and that’s (more than) okay.

• Interacting with people drains me. Some days, I’ll rest and recover with quietness or exercise; and on other days, I’ll find the courage to enjoy the company. Some people will misunderstand me, and that’s okay.

• I’ll be sad that my dad and others aren’t here anymore to enjoy our babies, laugh through a funny holiday movie, tell stories, or play, while feeling simultaneously joyful we have our children’s hearts to build with family moments — and their laughter to build ours.

• Practicing to be a tender presence of joyful hope during times of loss is a significant exercise. Because we each have heavy hearts about someone. And we can move forward together. It is okay to hurt about the past and grow toward the future... and somehow experience presence. How? I’m not sure. It is okay to take it one breath at a time. 

• I’m going to miss the days my parents were the Magic Makers for my Christmas morning, while pursuing what kind of Magic Makers my husband and I want to be for our children and their lifelong Christmas hearts, and that’s okay. Giving responsibly is a creative process of energy and self, and it’s okay to not be perfect in blazing new paths.

• Dreary days will be soul-tired, and that’s okay.

• Our house will not be as aesthetically-pleasing as the empty-nesters’ who host the party, and that’s okay. 

• Wrestling guilt that I can’t help all the people who need help, especially this time of year, is an important battle. I’ll do what I can. And it’ll be okay.

Expectations to do holidays a certain way are perishing... slowly. Many extreme emotions from sad to happy exist in a single moment; accepting this makes their draining presence more harmonious. People are individuals. We find some who get us. And we learn to love the ones who don’t, as well as ourselves. Pride and fear eat my joy, and I will continue to fend them off and gain strength each year to make the most of our wallet, time, and energy for blessing others. Money is not the only commodity to consider this time of year.

Be wise. 

Be kind. 

Enjoy. 

It’s okay. 

You’ll get to try again with learned lessons next year, Lord-willing.

On the Art of Becoming A Friend to Self

Metaphors help me put myself in more empathetic shoes with healthier perspectives (the plural is important). The idea of building up myself and others toward progress has been significant to me lately. As a follower of Jesus, I am an active construction worker in a Kingdom of souls.

Thinking of each person as a building in construction helps me realize how my words and actions can reinforce a person’s architectural structure, so to speak. If each person’s heart is a potential sculpture, then I understand some bits need to be chipped away with gentle and intentional strokes to reveal an amazing image. And imagining humans as fellow sojourners through the wilderness of life’s valleys and mountains, the significance of individual strengths and weaknesses for a group’s goal becomes visible.

We have three little boys, and their hearts’ shapes matter more to me than anyone’s, which means everyone’s matters to me a great deal because everyone is someone’s baby. (Sad, overwhelmed face.)  All of these metaphors help me envision people as individual jewels in a community setting with a long-term purpose for God’s Kingdom. Including myself. Each day I am the first person either choosing to be my friend or my enemy, which has an impact on all of my activities and relationships.

The second greatest command is hard for me. Jesus wants me to love my neighbor as myself. What does that even mean? People tote it around and pass it out like an easy spelling test, and I feel like a kindergartner trying to ace a quantum physics exam when I haven’t learned to read yet, and neither have the bozos handling the grades.

The blurred lines of how to love a person confound me. “As myself”?! Words like “self” and “love” subtly terrify me. The world’s extreme self-indulgence versus unhealthy church-culture’s self-neglect clouds the direction of how to love myself, and therefore others.

It’s time to blow the smoke away and face the beast. Letting myself be loved, by God and myself and others, is the basis of everything I believe God has been communicating through history about our existence: How to be loved and how to love, how to be like Him. (Matthew 5:37-40; Galatians 5:14)

“Self” conjures guilt for me because of all.the.sermons about “J-O-Y; Jesus first, others second; yourself last.” Maybe healthy people with well-defined emotional boundaries can shape their priorities and live fruitful lives with that acronym. But codependent tendencies transform that acronym into a recipe of self-neglect, irresponsibility, self-loathing, and a victim mentality. Since many starve for this true love, we vacuum up anything that numbs the inevitable suffering of life -- empty calories of comfort, often in the form of isolated addictions or destructive relationships.

“Love” — ugh. This word. Ugh. So many misconceptions and folly parading in a mask of “love.” When I am given the direction to “love,” I feel like someone gave me a raft at the beach and told me to just float until I hit land on the other side of the ocean. I need clarity here. My observation of others is that many people feel the same overwhelmed confusion by this concept. Love is too complex and alive to be reduced to a system, though; and my heart also aches to see it degraded to impulsive feelings. So how to navigate this breathing, beating, persevering part of our minds, bodies, hearts -- souls? Hmm?

Cruelty and bullying obviously are not love. On the other extreme end of the spectrum, though, coddling and enabling are missing the mark too. But how many of us have unfair expectations of ourselves each day -- and we handle our failures to meet those expectations by neglecting or harming ourselves (verbally, emotionally, physically); or we give up on everything, instead of seeking for healthy compromises in between our all-or-nothing thinking? Both are a way of losing self-control; the former by overstepping the bounds of responsibility in a violent way, and the latter by not claiming responsibility in uncomfortable moments of constructive relational interaction. Some moments call for the courage and strength of “tough love,” while others call for the tenderness of mercy and understanding. Not to mention different needs for different personalities with different traumas and strengths. Overload! Why can’t I have a script or a map for these possibilities?

A script and clear paths won’t happen before we start our building, sculpting, sojourning. But we can be given a direction to write or forge our own with some guidelines. God actually gives a lot of guidelines about healthy love that have been corrupted by culture, tradition, and stigma.

LOVE...

• Is patient
• Is kind
• Does not want what belongs to others
• Does not brag
• Is not proud
• Does not dishonor other people/ is NOT rude
• Does not look out for its own interests
• Does not get angry easily
• Does not keep track of others’ wrongs
• Is not happy with evil
• Is full of joy when truth is spoken
• Always protects
• Always trusts
• Always hopes
• Never gives up

1 Corinthians 13

I don’t think anyone would actually come out and say that neglecting oneself is healthy, but enough sermons about how terrible it is to be selfish without clear lines drawn between what it means to take care of oneself as a human with needs and potential in God’s Kingdom VERSUS indulgent, destructive selfishness has created so much sickness in God’s Kingdom. Instead of breaking people down, we want to build them up, right? Ourselves, too, right?

Finding practical tools to practice treating yourself like a friend helps. Every person is different. For me the key is to find TRACTION when I get knocked down the slippery slopes of my self-doubt and -loathing in the face of life’s demands. “Traction” is currently my favorite word because I can sink my teeth into it while I feel my heart’s feet grab hold of something solid and the strength steele me from foundation to dome. Here are some things that help me gain strength:

Unconditional Self-Friendship

• I try to do some kind of devotional, either my breakfast reader or the online She Reads Truth, before my day gets too far away from me. Reminders of God’s big-picture-love still my soul (at least a bit) before I get swept away in the rush of tiny endless questions, homeschool and caring for three babies, plus all the other stuff.

• An imaginary start over button that I can push any time a day while talking to God about it, however many times I need to change my attitude. Even if I JUST pushed it, or I already pushed it twenty times, I can push it again. Pretend it’s there in the air. Push it. It is way better for my husband and kids if I stop and try again than to go down the cycle of failure and self-loathing when I make a mistake.
• If I wouldn’t say or do it to someone else, then I shouldn’t say or do it to myself. Don’t be mean to you. You’re a person. You matter too.
• I hang up signs and scriptures around the house that give me peace and/or courage. What would I tell my best friend if she felt this way?  “Unconditional self-friendship.”
• HALT means stop -- if you’re Hungry Angry Lonely or Tired, stop and take care of yourself (Eat, address the issue, rest). Don’t deprive yourself of physical or emotional needs because you think you deserve to suffer. Enough inevitable suffering goes around in life that we can endure for growth; don’t tear yourself down with meaningless and unnecessary neglect. And have you ever had a successful interaction with loved ones when you were hangry? Taking care of yourself helps you take care of your relationships and loved ones. Remember the cliche example of the oxygen mask on the airplane? You put on yours first, and THEN you can help people. You cannot help anyone if you are passed out.
• Exercise. I know not everyone likes this, but even a simple walk can clear the mind and untangle worries. Breathe. Move. You’ll become one with your mind and body.
• Enjoy the little things. A pretty mug with a hot cup of tea in the morning, and then a pretty jar with a cup of iced tea later in the day, brings me sweet pleasure and refreshment when dealing with responsibilities. It sounds silly, but after years of not sleeping through the night, and not consuming caffeine bc I hate coffee, (and because I got some kind of sick pleasure out of seeing how tough I could be through misery), I realized how significant this “little thing” is to myself and the people I am learning to love better each day.
• Do not compare yourself to others. We each have different personalities, different traumas, different seasons of life, different health issues. You take care of YOU where you ARE. If you have an illness, take the nap you need. If you’re chasing kids (all day and night), don’t bully yourself about a messy house. If you are busy doing good works or celebrating life events or dealing with responsibilities, talk to yourself outloud about what matters most. Don’t miss precious moments for meaningless ones. (Talking to myself. Seriously, you can’t say this stuff out loud enough.)
• Claim your responsibilities. Don’t fall victim to a victim mindset. Facing fears and dealing with life is exhausting, but it builds self-confidence for controllable issues and trust in the Lord for the uncontrollable ones.
• Learn to detach from negativity. People are going to have hard feelings toward you, no matter who you are. Look at criticism realistically. If you need to apologize or change your ways, take responsibility. If you believe you haven’t done anything wrong, push forward and allow yourself to be joyful. Don’t get caught in silly nets that unhappy people throw.

I could probably write dozens of these, but who has time to even read what I already wrote?! Hah! Please feel free to share with me what you like to do to help yourself, anything general or specific?

An arsenal of love with which to love better can’t be too full!